The Heratic Curse
by Dani Nott
Summary: The normally studious Princess Sarah is plagued by a childhood curse which may cost her the throne. With the help of her friends, Sarah must find her true love and break the curse, and try not to irritate any more of the gods along the way.
1. Chapter 1

I'd like to start by saying hello to everyone who has stumbled across my story. This first chapter is a bit mythology heavy (that's what happens when you write it during your Greek religion class - got to love college), but it lightens up a bit after this chapter. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!

**Disclaimer: The story behind the Apple of Discord and the gods belongs to Homer and his Greek comrads. The curse tablets are real. Anything else that you recognize is not mine. **

_**The Heratic Curse**_

Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess named Sarah. As a young girl she was a curious little thing, perhaps a bit too curious for her own good. Next to her grand palace there lived a witch named Gloria. Unlike many witches of her time, Gloria was not a bad witch, but she was not good either. A true scholar, Gloria wished to know everything there was to know about magic, both the bad and the good. Because of this, Gloria had many ancient magical tablets decorated with large stones in her garden.

Now Princess Sarah happened to love rocks of all kinds. Her parents tried to appease this love by importing rocks from all corners of the world, but this was not enough for Princess Sarah. What she truly wished was to examine the rocks in Gloria's garden.

One day, after a clever ruse involving her dearest friend Lady Delia and twelve crates of honey, Princess Sarah escaped her nurse, Tracy, and snuck into Gloria's garden. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the largest most glorious rock in the garden. It was embedded in a clay tablet surrounded by silver nails. The tablet was in fact an ancient Greek curse tablet dedicated to the goddess Hera which Gloria had attained the previous week. Unfortunately Princess Sarah did not know this and attempted to pry the stone form the tablet. When this did not work, Princess Sarah pulled one of the silver nails from the tablet and used it to chip the stone from the tablet. Eventually Princess Sarah held the stone, her new treasure, in her hands.

Delighted with her own resourcefulness, Princess Sarah skipped out of the garden and back into the palace grounds. This is when she heard Gloria's scream. "The Heradic Stone is gone! A curse on its thief!"

Now Princess Sarah may have been curious to a fault, but she was by no means stupid. She hastily ran back to Gloria's garden to return the cursed stone, perhaps she ran with a bit too much haste. On her way through the athelas brambles Princess Sarah tripped and dropped the stone; it shattered. Immediately the poor little princess was surrounded by a golden light. Frightened, Princess Sarah turned to Gloria for help.

"Stay away!" Gloria cried. "You have broken the stone of the goddess Hera. Everyone you touch will turn into a cow!"

Now like any little girl, Princess Sarah was scared by the witch's proclamation and ran for home. Once she entered the palace, Princess Sarah encountered her disgruntled, somewhat sticky nurse, Tracy. Princess Sarah ran into Tracy's arms, not thinking of the consequences, which were immediate. Tracy's nose lengthened to form a snout, her warm comforting arms became bony and hairy, something began to poke out of the back of her skirt. Princess Sarah's nurse had turned into a cow!

Word spread quickly through the palace of poor Princess Sarah's predicament. The king and queen called for Gloria hoping for a quick cure. Their hopes were shattered when Gloria spoke.

"Princess Sarah has caused much damage by breaking the Heradic Stone. The goddess Hera is a vengeful deity and does not forgive easily. However, there is one way Sarah's curse might be broken. Thousands of years ago, Hera desired a rather unique piece of fruit, the golden Apple of Discord. The Prince Paris decided to bestow this apple upon Aphrodite, and Hera was spurned. Should this apple be presented to Hera, she may lift the Princess's curse."

"How can this be done?" the king and queen asked.

"Aphrodite is very powerful. Only one who truly loves Princess Sarah, a soul mate if you please, will be able to take the apple from Aphrodite. For Aphrodite is the goddess of lust and only true love can overcome that type of power. But for now keep Princess Sarah hidden away, for who knows what kind of damage her curse may cause."

The king and queen did just that. For ten years Princess Sarah lived hidden away in a deserted castle with only her friend Lady Delia and cow-nurse to keep her company.


	2. Chapter 2

I figured since Chapter 1, which is really more of a prologue, is ridiculously short I'd post a bit more.

**Again, if you recognize it, it's not mine.**

_**Chapter 2**_

Now over the years Princess Sarah had grown into a lady unlike any other. A curious person by nature, Sarah longed to know about everything. The isolated castle and the grounds around it presented the perfect opportunity for the princess to gain such knowledge. By the end of her second year she knew everything there was to know about the rocks and masonry of the castle. However, when it came to social skills, the Princess was lacking. Though she had the company of her friend Lady Delia and her cow-nurse, it was not enough for a princess, particularly one who needed to find love.

This presented another problem for Sarah; she did not know what romantic love truly was. Yes, she had seen the cordiality her parents displayed around each other, but that's where it ended. And the love shown in the tales of romance Sarah had desperately scoured over countless times? Well, she didn't believe it. The princess could not see how this kind of death-defying love could spout overnight; it did not seem logical. Now most people sharing Sarah's opinion may have simply given up on love and settled for something less. However, Sarah could not give up. Her country's fate and her only chance at living a somewhat normal life depended on finding true love. This proved to be quite a problem for the princess.

Sarah was pondering just this on a particularly gloomy day when she heard a knock at the door. As usual Lady Delia barged in without waiting for the princess's response. Delia's boldness had been apparent even at an early age. Perhaps her parents had agreed to let Delia go with the princess with hopes that the isolation would rid their daughter of this unlady-like quality. The opposite had occurred. Years of being around royalty and being relied on as said royalty's only link to the outside world had emboldened Delia even more. While Delia's stories and escapades may have overwhelmed many people, most people were not as curious as Sarah, who took in Delia's admittedly long-winded and occasionally colorful diatribes about the outside world with a certain amount of amusement.

"A man came by today," Delia stated without preamble. "He brought this letter for you." Sarah took the letter with the familiar royal seal from Delia with surprise. It was much too early for her mother's quarterly letter about the court affairs.

"Well are you going to open it?" Delia asked. The curious gleam in her eyes reminded Sarah why they had become friends so long ago.

"I'm getting to it," Sarah replied. She would not be rushed. Letters from the court were rare, and although she knew her mother's courtly letters were written for the sake of duty, she tried to imagine there was real affection behind them and treasured each one. This unexpected letter was no different. Ignoring Delia's huffs of impatience, Sarah slowly opened the envelope. She was surprised to see the letter was written in her father's spidery script instead of her mother's careful calligraphy. Delia noticed her surprise and jumped on the bed next to Sarah.

"Well, what does it say?"

Sarah spared Delia an annoyed glance before turning to her father's letter.

_My dear daughter,_

_It has come to my attention that your eighteenth birthday is approaching. I send my congratulations for this and I am sure you have become an exceptional lady..._ (He went on to describe the qualities of womanhood he was sure she had attained, none of which she had since the closest thing Princess Sarah had to a governess had hooves.) _Under normal circumstances the queen and I would be presenting you to society in order to obtain a suitor at this time. Because of your unique situation this is not possible. However, this will not deter us from finding you a proper husband. Within a week of this letter, a succession of suitors aware of your predicament will come to call. They are all exceptional men in their own right and are most certainly fit to inherit the throne. It is my expectation that you will select one to become your husband and break the Heratic curse. If you cannot find a suitable man to break this curse, I am afraid I must look to the future of the kingdom and begin your cousin Lord Matthew's instruction on the ways of the king. Of course, I am sure this will be unnecessary with the suitors I have sent your way. I look forward to seeing you and my future heir at the winter festivities._

_Your father, _

_King Byron_

Sarah dropped the letter and left the room without another word. She sped down the spiral staircase and out the doors leading to the courtyard. She kept on walking until the castle was a speck and she was surrounded by open fields.

Sarah slumped to her knees and buried her face in her hands. If she were a normal princess her situation would not be so difficult. She would simply pick the most agreeable of the men her father sent and present him as her husband at the court's winter festival.

However, her curse made things more difficult. There had to be true love between her and her suitor for there to even be a chance at breaking the curse. Sarah's father never bothered to become acquainted with his daughter. How would he know the type of man she could come to love? He most likely sent men of rank whose confidence and ambitions to rise higher overrode their fear of confronting a goddess. And in such a short amount of time! Sarah knew nothing of true love. Now she had to find a man who was willing to face a goddess' wrath in little over half a year's time. It seemed impossible! Yet her father's threat of what would happen if she did not succeed rang clear. She would be disinherited in favor of her cousin and would most likely be forgotten in her secluded castle.

Sarah then did something she had not done since her first year at the castle: she cried. These were not the graceful tears of a damsel in distress or a maid about to meet her fairy godmother. These were the tears of a person realizing that her last hope to returning to her rightful place was now so far away it would be near impossible to reach.

In most stories the cries of the heroine are eventually silenced by sleep. If only Sarah could have been so lucky. Her mind was far too occupied with the letter's contents for sleep to arrive. She wished she could have fallen asleep. One always felt a bit better after rest. Instead, Sarah sat in the grass as the sky got darker and the air cooler. She dreaded her inevitable trek back to the castle. Although she was relieved to know she would not have to tell Delia the letter's news (Delia was not one to wait for permission to read Sarah's letters), she was dreading the advice and encouragement her friend was sure to offer. So instead she sat in the grass and tried to ignore the increasingly cool wind that her cotton dress did nothing to block.

Finally Sarah gave in to her need for warmth and walked back to the castle. However instead of heading inside where she knew Delia was waiting, Sarah entered the stable. Even as a cow the princess' old nurse never failed to be a source of comfort for the girl. Just as Sarah expected, Tracy was waiting for her with concern evident in her large eyes. (Sarah was sure Delia had filled Tracy in.) One nice thing about cows was their inability to talk. Sarah sank down, leaning against Tracy for support. Words were not necessary between these two (she chose to ignore the fact that words were impossible for her companion). This is how Sarah eventually fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

First of all, I'd like to apologize for taking so long in updating. Midterm season was a bit intense and my social life has been a bit of a roller coaster. I'm not joking when I say ABC family could make a semi-successful sitcom/drama based off my apartment. It doesn't help that I got stuck on this particular part of the story. Believe it or not, I do actually know where I'm going with this story and the updates will come faster after spring break. (I'm going to be backpacking through Europe in a couple weeks and they don't understand the concept of free wifi.)

With all that being said, enjoy!

Chapter 3

Sarah fidgeted in her seat. In a few minutes she would meet her first suitor. She did not feel the wave of exhilaration (either of fear or excitement) she had expected to feel. Of course she should have known better than to think she would share emotions with the girls in the love stories who she differed from in so many other ways. No, Sarah was far from nervous or excited. In fact, she was really rather irritable.

The past couple weeks had given Sarah a glimpse of what hell must surely be like, with Delia eagerly playing the role of the devil. Delia apparently believed that one day of moping was all Sarah needed to adjust to her father's plan. The bucket of water she had tossed on Sarah's head the morning after receiving the letter should have tipped Sarah off...

Sarah shrieked as icy water wrenched her from her dreams. Pushing hair out of her eyes, Sarah found herself looking up at Delia holding a highly incriminating slightly damp bucket.

"What was that for?!"

Delia shrugged. "Well I had to wake you up somehow."

Sometimes Delia's logic astounded Sarah. "And you couldn't have just called my name like a normal person?"

Delia laughed. "Sarah, you and I both know merely calling your name would not have gotten you up. Icy cold water, on the other hand. Now that will get anyone moving." She looked down at Sarah critically.

"You know you may want to go and change your clothes. It won't do for you to catch a cold. And hurry up about it. We have a lot to do today."

Sarah glared at Delia's retreating back. She may not have much experience with court life, but she was certain this was not how a lady-in-waiting was supposed to act. A sense of foreboding filled her as she changed her clothes and prepared for the day. Sarah was certain she would not like whatever it was Delia had in mind for her.

She was right.

When she finally made her way to the breakfast room, she was shocked by what she saw. Instead of the mere bowl of cereal and spoon placed by each of the two chairs, there was an overabundance of sterling silver and porcelain strategically placed at each setting. Delia was seated at her own chair as if nothing was out of the norm.

"What is this?" Sarah demanded, puzzled at the sight before her.

"Well, it's breakfast of course." Delia hardly spared Sarah a glance.

"I know that," Sarah snapped. Really, Delia had to learn some manners. "But is it really necessary to bring out the fine dishes? Where are our old dishes?"

Delia shifted in her seat, never a good sign. "Yes, about that. I figured we should get used to using the more formal silverware so we're ready when we're called to court."

Sarah nodded her head. Learning the proper way to use silverware was understandable, no matter how mundane the task of learning it would be. The last thing she wanted was to look like a barbarian at one of the royal feasts. Sarah sat down at the table and looked up at Delia expectantly. If she was going to learn how to do this, she would definitely need Delia's help. That's when she noticed Delia was still fidgeting. This definitely was not good.

"Did you want to add something, Delia?" Sarah may as well get the rest of Delia's news over with.

"Well, yes I did. Another letter came from the palace yesterday, one addressed to me." Delia hesitated a moment before continuing. "It seems your mother is concerned that you may be lacking some of the finer qualities expected in a lady. She has made it my duty to ensure that you're prepared for court life when you arrive with your future husband."

Sarah's blood turned cold. "You mean, my mother wants me to be finished?" Delia nodded. "But that means embroidery…"

"… and drawing…"

"… and music…"

"… and dancing."

Sarah winced at Delia's last words. She would prefer being doused by another dozen buckets of icy water than to face what lay ahead of her for the next few days.

If Delia had shown fear while delivering the news of Sarah's training, it had evaporated after the words had left her mouth. The next few days Sarah's friend had turned from lady-in-waiting to slave driver. Sarah understood that she needed to learn these skills if she was going to conform to the court's image of what a proper princess should be (although curse aside, she did not think there was anything wrong with her to begin with), but Delia seemed to take a sadistic pleasure in watching Sarah struggle with her lessons. She could deny it all she wanted, but Sarah knew Delia was having a bit too much fun overseeing Sarah's progression or lack there-of.

She had seen Delia stifle a smile as Sarah attempted a scale with Delia on the piano, and the bemused grins while inspecting her botched embroidery. Her commentary on Sarah's portrayal of a sunset, though seemingly kind, was laced with sarcasm.

Sarah could have taken all of this. Years of dealing with Delia had toughened her to Delia's sense of humor (often at Sarah's expense). But Delia's idea of dancing lessons went too far.

Sarah did not understand how dancing with an old broom could at all be comparable to waltzing with dignitaries at court. Delia apparently found the scenario ridiculous too. After Sarah's fourth attempt at learning the waltz, Delia could not hold in her laughter anymore.

Sarah would not be mocked. She threw the broom to the ground in frustration. "This is ridiculous, Delia! How on earth is this productive at all? You and I both know I can't dance!"

Delia took a deep breath and managed a straight face. "But Sarah you have to learn how to dance. After the curse is broken, there are bound to be several balls in your honor. It wouldn't do for you not to know how to dance."

Sarah took a deep breath. She knew Delia was right. She also knew she was bound to be the source of court gossip (in fact, she suspected she already was). She would be damned if she gave them another thing to talk about, even if it meant she must learn how to dance. "Fine, you're right. I know you're right. But why does it have to be a broom?"

Sarah could see the internal struggle Delia was fighting not to burst into laughter again. "Well you have to learn somehow, Sarah. I obviously can't be your partner, and dancing with air just seems silly."

There was a silence in the room. They both knew Sarah would look much less ridiculous dancing with the air than with the musty old broom Delia had pulled out from the supply closet.

"Besides, you and the broom make such a fetching couple."

She just couldn't resist.

The next couple weeks went much in the same fashion. Eventually Sarah's stitches became neater, her vocals more in tune, and her drawings recognizable. Her dancing was a different story, but who could blame her when her only dancing partner was a musty old broom? Or at least that's how Sarah saw it.

There was another aspect to Sarah's preparation for her suitors other than Delia's torture sessions. Sarah had received another set of letters from court, this time penned by her mother. In these letters, Sarah had received details on the men her father had sent, as well as basic womanly advice on how to interact with the rougher sex.

Some of her mother's warnings about the ways of men had made Sarah blush. Her mother's advice truly was unnecessary. Even if Sarah had been that kind of woman, which she most certainly was not, Sarah's physical interaction with the opposite sex was severely limited by the curse.

Unfortunately, Delia had also seen the queen's letters and had felt it necessary to expand upon the queen's advice. And expand she did. Between lady lessons and advice on flirting, it seemed Delia talked from dawn until dusk. At nightfall Sarah would excuse herself early pleading exhaustion, which really wasn't an untrue statement. Sarah was exhausted. However, instead of heading to bed Sarah retreated to the library. There she poured over ancient texts. As doubtful at she was about the suitors her father was sending, she couldn't deny that this was the closest she had ever been to breaking the curse.

So now here Sarah was two weeks later. She was tired from the long days and nights. Her hair was pulled back in an uncomfortable and ridiculous style that Delia assured her was the newest thing at court. (How Delia knew this since she rarely wandered within ten miles of the palace, Sarah did not know, nor did she dare ask.) Her dress, which even Sarah had to admit was rather pretty, was also rather tight particularly across her torso. She knew this was to make her figure appear to an advantage, but she really did not see the point. Weren't these men supposed to impress her, not the other way around?

The combination of exhaustion and discomfort, along with general dread of the men who were to be paraded before her had left Sarah in a rather irritable mood.

She fought to wipe the scowl off her face as the door opened and her first suitor walked in.

She couldn't hold the surprise from her face when a man her father's age came through the door. He introduced himself as Sir Keegan and claimed to be honored to meet her. Fifteen minutes into the conversation, Sarah saw the lie in his earlier statement.

Sir Keegan was a man of accomplishment. And he made sure Sarah knew about every single one of said accomplishments, from the successful battles he had commanded during the Nautic Wars (which she couldn't help but recall occurred before she could properly walk) to his great kill in the latest royal hunt. While Sarah was impressed with his military prowess (though his age still disturbed her), Sir Keegan was far less impressed with Sarah's own accomplishments. He dared not show it in an obvious way, but when Sarah mentioned her in-depth studies involving geology and mythology a dark look shot came over his face. It vanished almost immediately, but it had been there. Sarah knew then that this man was not the one for her.

The next few suitors did not fare much better.

Devin, the second son of a baron, was a handsome smart man. Indeed for a few hours, Sarah had been quite taken with him. Then teatime rolled around. When Delia had accidentally spilled some tea on Devin's lap, instead of accepting Delia's apology and offer of a towel, he snapped at her and admonished Sarah for choosing such a clumsy lady-in-waiting. No, a man incensed by such a small mishap most certainly would not make a good king.

Joseph, a young lord, was not much better. He possessed the same charm that Devin had exuded at first, but he lacked Devin's temper. Unfortunately, a temper was not the only thing that Joseph lacked. Although at first Joseph seemed to know a basic outline about Sarah's situation, he seemed to lack any insight on how to go about breaking the curse. Upon seeing Joseph's blank face when she explained that Aphrodite was the goddess of love and sex, Sarah surmised that anything Joseph knew had been told to him by an advisor before his departure from the capitol. His ideas were not his own. A man like that certainly could not hold his own against ancient gods.

Christian, the son of the duke of Salisbartl, was even worse. Although very handsome, it was clear within the first few minutes that he did not truly wish to be there. From his many bitter references to his father, Sarah surmised that he was here on his father's orders. Although Sarah was not looking for a power-hungry man for a husband, she knew that an unmotivated ruler may be an even worse option.

And so the next few days went. Sarah met various suitors, but all of them possessed flaws that made her deem them incapable of both breaking her curse and someday wearing the crown.

Finally Sarah saw her last suitor out onto the road. Sir Matthew was an unimpressive man on all accounts. However what really finalized Sarah's resolve that he must go was the fascination Delia's brooch seemed to hold for him. That, and the fact that his eyes did not seem to stray from Delia's chest even after she had removed the brooch. Sarah went back inside and sank into a seat by the fire. She let out a defeated sigh. Would she ever find someone who could care about her more than her position and riches? It seemed unlikely considering the men her father was sending. Sarah heard a noise at the door and saw Delia hesitating at the threshold. Sarah cracked a small smile.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you instead of another one of those idiots. You'd think they'd be better charmers if they hope to one day run a country…"

Sarah paused her diatribe when she saw Delia squirm.

"What?"

"Well, actually there is one more man who arrived a bit late-"

Sarah left the room before she had a chance to finish, but Delia was not to be ignored.

"I think you should give him a chance," Delia called while trying to catch up. "I know you're tired and fed up with the king's silly politicians, I get it! But this one seems different, sweet in his own way."

At this Sarah became angry and whirled around to face her friend.

"Sweet is he? Are you sure you're not just sweet on him? For the past few weeks, all I've seen were men who have attempted to sweet-talk me. I thought you understood how tired I am of it all." Sarah took a deep breath and tried to check her rising temper. "No more. I'm done with it. I'm not going to find love in this manner. In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if I'm ever going to find love at all."

"Sarah, you don't mean that." Delia whispered.

"Oh yes, I do. I'm not you, Delia, I'm not bubbly and beautiful and care-free. I'm dull and cynical and _cursed_. I suppose my father's right in trying to marry me off. I'm nothing but a burden."

Tears were now streaming down Sarah's face. She took Delia's shock as an opportunity to escape down a side corridor.

"But you're so wrong," Delia whispered as she watched her friend's retreat.

Both girls were unaware that their exchange had been witnessed by another, a young man with wide blue eyes.

Okay, that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed this part of the story. If time permits, I may get one more section out before I leave for Europe.


	4. Chapter 4

okay, i figured i can do one more update.

Chapter 4

"Good evening, Tracy," Sarah said as she opened the door to the stables. "How do you fare this fine night?"

Tracy's eyes looked up at Sarah's face and saw the traces of dried tears. Her eyes filled with concern as she mooed softly at Sarah.

"Oh everything's fine. Don't you worry. I got through the rest of the suitors today. What a bunch they were!" Sarah got up and tried to make herself seem busy by lighting the lanterns. Anything to get away from Tracy's all-knowing eyes. Tracy nudged her from behind and softly mooed again, her concern even more evident.

"I don't understand it, Tracy! All of those men were horrible. They all said the same lines: I was beautiful, what a fine lady, how clever a queen I'll make." (Sarah didn't even take into consideration that they could have been telling the truth.) "Yet I could not hold a decent conversation with one of them. At first I thought it must be the men father was sending. Ambitious fools. But now I wonder. Father would not want a rich simpleton to take the crown. He'd want a strong clever man, one of merit. Maybe there's nothing wrong with these men. Maybe there's something wrong with me."

Sarah went cold as this new realization hit her. Maybe it was fate that she took the rock all those years ago. Maybe fate meant to separate her from a world she clearly did not belong to. Tracy nudged up against Sarah again and Sarah buried her face in Tracy's warm folds.

"It's definitely the men."

Sarah jumped to her feet at the sound of the strange male voice.

"Who are you? Show yourself." Sarah tried to keep her voice in check. Whoever this was had observed far too much already. There was no need for him to see any more weakness shown by the crown princess.

The figure stepped into the light, and what a figure he was. His strong stature appeared relaxed, although it was evident that he was not one to be trifled with. Blond hair fell into wide blue eyes, which looked as though they must often dance with excitement, although they were filled with concern at the moment.

"Forgive me, your highness. I am Lord Michael. I meant to wait until tomorrow to introduce myself, as your lady-in-waiting suggested, but when I heard your voice while exploring the grounds I couldn't help but speak.

"I don't know you very well, but I do know those men sent by the king. Pompous men, all of them. How they deceived the king, I'll never know, but they most certainly found a way. If I were you I would not feel bad for being at a loss when conversing with those men. In fact with all due respect, highness, I would be somewhat alarmed if you had found their dialogue engaging."

Lord Michael said this all rather quickly, a boyish eagerness showing in his features. She turned her head at his informal manner. With the exception of Delia, such frankness irritated her, but it seemed to suit this Lord Michael.

"So you're the one who arrived late. Reliability is a quality that is admired in a ruler. A quality you are most certainly lacking."

A bemused smile stretched over his handsome face. "Ah but I am not late, highness. Rather I am the only one who arrived on time. I set out with the rest of the men sent by your father. Needless to say the other men and I didn't get along. They sought to get rid of me. One of them drugged my drink at dinner, which caused me to sleep through a good portion of the next day. By the time I awoke, they had broken camp and were long gone, along with most of the supplies."

"What a cruel trick to play!" Sarah was outraged that men who were supposed to be gentlemen had acted in such a way.

"That may be, but if it wasn't the case we may not be having this conversation right now. Perhaps it was not so unfortunate after all."

Sarah had nothing to say to this.

"Well it is getting late and I'd rather not risk overstaying my welcome. Good night to you, highness. I look forward to seeing you in the morning."

With a quick smile and a short bow, Lord Michael was gone. Sarah watched his departure in shock.

"Can you believe the nerve of him, Tracy? To eavesdrop on me, and to have the audacity to reveal himself and then to leave just like that! Gentlemen are not supposed to behave that way… are they?"

Tracy watched her princess wander off and settled down in her bed of hay.

No. Gentlemen were not supposed to behave that way. And Lord Michael most certainly was not a gentleman. But then again Sarah did not act the way a princess was meant to act either. Perhaps Lord Michael was right. Maybe fate did have a say in their meeting. Maybe the gods weren't so indifferent after all.

The next week followed a similar pattern in the palace. To most people it would seem rather obvious that Lord Michael was attempting to court his princess. However, as stated before Princess Sarah was far removed from most people. When Lord Michael praised the castle and its grounds over breakfast, Sarah merely nodded and allowed Delia to do the talking (a task which she did a bit too eagerly in Sarah's opinion). When he frequented her library she rolled her eyes and prayed he would not make too much noise. Her intensive study of the gods, particularly their weaknesses, was much more important than whatever he was studying. (It did not occur to her that she was his choice subject of study.) When he happened to run into her during her evening walks, Sarah nodded her head and accepted his company as one would accept that of an annoying and extremely talkative child.

If Lord Michael had noticed Sarah's animosity toward him – Which he had. He was not a stupid fellow. – he never let on. And so things continued for the next seven days. It took a thousand page encyclopedia on the geography of the Aegean to break the routine. This was the book Lord Michael dropped on his head during one eventful visit to the library.

The crash caused Sarah to look up from her studies in agitation. She had put up with his presence in the library for the past week because of his relative silence. If he was going to make noise though… well enough was enough.

"Would you please at least try to be careful with my books?" Sarah navigated the rows until she came to the one that crash had come from. "Some of those books are very ex-" Sarah stopped short when she saw Lord Michael sporting a very puffy purple eye.

"Honestly highness, I think your books may be more capable of defending themselves than you gave them credit for."

Sarah couldn't help it, she started to laugh. Soon Lord Michael joined her. She noticed that had had a nice laugh and his eyes – even the puffy one – did indeed dance when happy.

"I'm sorry," Sarah said once she had more control of herself. "Did you want any ice for that?"

"No, I'll be fine," Lord Michael said, while getting up. "And don't be sorry. Any reason to make you laugh is worth a book or two to the eye." Sarah blushed. "Even one like" He held up the perpetrator, "… the Geography of the Aegean. A bit out of place in a princess' library, isn't it?"

A mask fell back over Sarah's face. "Well I don't think so. It's… it's actually rather fascinating. And with my… circumstances as they are, I find study of the Greek ways to be of the utmost-"

"Highness," Lord Michael said softly. "Relax, it was a joke. What I meant was what is a lovely princess such as yourself doing stuck inside surrounded by ancient tomes? Wouldn't it make much more sense for you to be out and about exploring your countryside?"

"I do go out," Sarah retorted. "I can tell you all you'd want to know about the geography and soil conditions within twenty miles of here."

"I have no doubt that you could," Lord Michael said with a bemused smile. "But I was talking about having fun. Not appraisal, not research, just plain relaxing fun."

"It's not so easy when you're in my position," Sarah said, not quite meeting his eyes. "All it takes is one touch and I can't reverse it. I have to constantly be aware of what I'm doing. I can't – I refuse to slip up again."

"Sarah," His tone forced her to meet his eyes as much as if he'd lifted her chin up. "I realize the curse is a big part of your life, but there are other parts too. I have never met a person so disinclined to having fun." (Sarah took offense to this. Studying rocks was fun!) "You're in a unique position, Sarah. You have more freedom at your disposal than most could ever dream of. Let others – let me – worry about your curse. It's high time you enjoy yourself, like a normal girl should."

Once again Lord Michael left Sarah's presence with barely a bow. Sarah remained where she was deep in thought. Was Michael –No! Lord Michael – right? Did she not know how to have fun? Delia had often teased Sarah, calling her a killjoy, but Sarah had always assumed she was joking. Maybe she hadn't been. Perhaps Lord Michael had a point. True, she had enjoyed her research and surveyal of the land, but maybe that wasn't what fun really was. Maybe fun was the care-free independence Lord Michael had described. It wouldn't hurt her to find out, would it?

Sarah slowly walked down the aisle and was surprised to see Lord Michael learning against the doorframe – waiting.

"Lord Michael," ("Just Michael," he interjected.) "Would you show me how to have fun?"

And he did. The next few weeks were filled with picnics, and flower wreaths, and song. Sarah had laughed more with Michael than she had in months without him. After a quick breakfast with Delia, they quickly packed their lunch and headed out to the fields. There Michael would recite the old myths and fairy tales. And when he ran out of stories to tell he would make them up, depicting himself as the valiant knight saving her, the damsel in distress. Although Sarah laughed at his antics, she secretly had started picturing the two of them actually playing out these roles in real life.

It was dusk by the time they returned to the castle and an increasingly disgruntled Delia. After dinner they sat out on the balcony and looked at the stars. Sarah told Michael all the constellations' meanings. At times, her voice grew sad when coming across certain constellations, like that of Paris or Hera. But then Michael would tell her she was not meant to worry about the gods' affairs. Others could do that for her. Sarah fell asleep at night imagining her next day with Michael. Sometimes she even wondered what he'd look like wearing a crown…

Things may have continued like this if Michael hadn't tripped over a rabbit hole one day. Sarah thought his ankle may have been sprained, but could not touch it to find out. They slowly made their way back to the castle where they found Delia in the sitting area.

"Back so soon?" Delia quipped, not even looking up from her book.

"Yes, Michael had an accident. I think his ankle may be sprained, could you take a look at it?" Sarah asked, grateful that some action could now be taken.

"Sorry," Delia said, while turning a page in her book. "I don't know anything about sprained ankles."

Sarah flushed at this statement. It was completely untrue! Delia generally avoided scholarly topics, assuming Sarah would explain the really important things when necessary, but the topic of the human body was one subject of great interest to Delia. Delia turned another page and Sarah did a double take. For the gods' sake, she was reading a physiology book while they spoke! Sarah hoped Michael hadn't noticed and counted to ten in her head. Nope, didn't help.

"Be that as it may, Michael's hurt, and I can't touch him to find out how badly. Even if you don't know anything about ankles, you're better than nothing. I think I can talk you through it. I seem to recall hearing about sprained ankles somewhere." _That somewhere being from you for hours three months ago when you sprained your own ankle and had to go into exact detail about what that entailed._ She thought, but didn't say. As it turned out, she didn't need to.

Delia slammed her book and with a smile sweet enough to cause a toothache walked over to where Michael was sitting.

"Alright, what am I supposed to do? Just feel around a bit?" Without waiting for Sarah's reply, Delia squeezed Michael much harder than necessary. Michael cried out from the pain.

"Well it looks like something must be wrong." Delia muttered. She didn't even pretend to feel remorse about causing him more pain.

Sarah was seething. How dare Delia not only refuse to help but actually hurt Michael more? What had he ever done to her?

"Enough!" Sarah said. "He's obviously hurt. Why don't you go and make a draught to ease the pain?"

"There's a book that says how to do so on the table, and I'm sure the ingredients are in the pantry." Sarah snapped when she saw Delia open her mouth again. Sarah had guessed Delia's reply correctly and Delia slowly walked out of the room. Sarah assumed it would take double the time it normally took Delia to brew the draught.

Sarah busied herself by grabbing pillows and blankets for Michael, while he attempted jokes at his predicament. Sarah's anger at Delia was somewhat forgotten while listening to his playful jibes. Eventually (and it was definitely eventually) Delia returned with the draught.

"Here you are, Lord Michael," Delia cheerfully handed him the steaming cup. "It's my first time making it" (_Liar!_) "so I hope it turned out properly."

Michael eyed the cup warily before accepting it with a thanks and downing its contents. He promptly and unexpectedly began to snore. Sarah was furious.

"The drought isn't supposed to do that!" She yelled at an unrepentant Delia.

"Hmm… you're right it wasn't. I must have made it wrong."

"That's a lie! You made it for yourself three times a day for weeks after you sprained _your _ankle!"

Delia shrugged. "Slip-ups can happen. Besides a little sleep won't hurt him."

Her continued indifference infuriated Sarah even more. "What's the matter with you! What has Michael ever done to you?"

Delia ignored Sarah's angry words and sat back down in her chair. "Why don't you look on the bright side? We finally have a chance to talk. Something we haven't done since you deemed Michael worthy of conversation."

Sarah felt a twinge of guilt at her friend's words. They had some truth to them. "That's not true. I've been around."

"Oh really?" Delia said calmly. "I disagree with you on that one. I know I haven't spoken to you outside of meals in days. Your usual table in the library has a layer of dust covering it."

"You're exaggerating, Delia."

"How's Tracy doing?"

That comment struck deep. In truth, Sarah didn't know how Tracy was doing since she hadn't stopped by in weeks and, for the first time, she felt terrible about it. It was Sarah's fault Tracy was in her current predicament and she still never failed to be a source of comfort to Sarah. And what had Sarah done? She had abandoned – forgotten – the person who had supported her for years.

Delia sighed. "Listen, I know Michael has opened your horizons to new ideas, and that is a good thing. Just don't forget who you really are."

Sarah looked up angrily at Delia's words. "How dare you? I like who I've become when I'm with Michael. Yes, I've momentarily forgotten about Tracy and put off my studies, but as Michael said, those shouldn't be the concerns of the princess. Those should be the concerns of others, like… like _you_."

Sarah regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. Although it was true that as her lady-in-waiting Delia was supposed to assist her, Delia was much more than that to Sarah. She was her friend. The hurt look on Delia's face added to her regret.

"Well," Delia said. "I never thought you felt that way. I was always under the impression that you actually cared about Tracy and me, I guess I could have been wrong all along… But I don't think so." The words she had obviously held in for weeks now gushed out. "Don't you see it, Sarah? He's changed you, and not for the better. I know you think you love him, but he's not good for you! He makes you forget about all the things you used to care about. You used to be smart; you used to care about the world and your role in it. Now you're acting like one of those silly country girls. Real love is supposed to enhance your best qualities, not degrade you to simpleton ways."

"And what would you know of love!" Sarah cried. "You go around the countryside flirting with all the different men. _That_ most certainly is not love. If anyone fits the role of silly country girl, it's most certainly you, as I'm sure most of the men in the closest village can attest to. Given your track record, maybe even the neighboring village as well. I think you're just jealous that I caught the attention of Michael and not you. I _saw_ the way you looked at him, spoke to him when he first arrived. Well guess what, Delia, he chose me, the real lady, over you. Get over it; stop trying to ruin the one good thing I had going for me."

Delia's eyes were strangely blank when she next spoke. "Well, I see how it is now. Bring him to court if you wish. Marry him if you want. But know this: he'll never break your curse."

"And why is that?"

"He doesn't love you, Sarah."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. If he truly loved you, he'd accept you as the crazy mess you are. He'd join your research in the library and would listen to you ramble about rocks. Don't you want someone who appreciates that about you, Sarah?"

"Oh, wake up, Delia! No one appreciates that kind of things in a woman. Aren't my father's other suitors sufficient proof of that? But Michael, he cared enough to give me another chance, to show me a world I had never seen before."

"That's not love, Sarah! Why can't you see-"

"Enough." Sarah stated, mustering all her authority. "This conversation is over. I think we're done for the night.

Delia's face so passionate in argument hardened. "Of course, good night, your highness." She quickly got up and left the room.

Sarah quickly wiped away the tears she didn't know were falling when she heard Michael stir on the couch. He seemed surprised to no longer feel pain in his ankle. Delia may have been difficult about making the draught, but at the end of the day, she was an apt healer.

"She drugged you, that idiot."

"I figured as much. So what happened between you and the ever-charming Lady Delia while I was out? I'm assuming there was a reason she knocked me out?"

Sarah shook her head. "Oh it was nothing. She just doesn't like being told what to do."

"And she doesn't like me."

Sarah opened her mouth to deny his claim.

"Don't bother denying it. I'm not a fool, Sarah. I know Delia doesn't like me. What I don't know is why."

Sarah sighed and considered telling him everything. For some reason, a small part of her feared doing so. This annoyed her to no end, and in the way of any stubborn person (especially one who is emotionally compromised), she rebelled against the better judgment of the small part of her mind.

"She's just jealous! She's jealous of us and what we have…" Sarah blushed at what she had just insinuated. It was one thing to entertain thoughts of a romance and marriage to Michael in her head, but actually saying such things out loud brought a whole new aspect to their relationship.

Michael, however, took her comment in stride. "I see, and what exactly are we?"

"I'm not sure!" Sarah groaned in frustration, wishing this conversation was not happening. "I'm not sure of anything anymore."

Michael looked at her and Sarah felt lost in his wide blue eyes. "Well, how about I tell you what I'm sure of? I'm sure that I care for you a great deal, Princess Sarah. You are going to become an amazing woman; beautiful, kind, and lively. You have grown so much since the girl I met when I came mere weeks ago. My dearest hope is that I get to witness every step as you grow into the woman you will one day become."

"I hope you will be there too." Sarah whispered, now completely lost in his eyes.

"Well then I suppose we shall have to make it a bit more official." Michael smiled as he got down on one knee. Sarah's blood turned cold. "Princess Sarah, I promise to forever love and protect you in any way possible. I promise to be there while you grow into a most amazing lady. Will you promise to stay with me as well? Sarah, will you marry me?"

Sarah stood speechless for a moment. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Michael's proposal was just like the ones in the romance novels. All of her years reading romance novels, scouring them for true love came back to her. Maybe those books were right all along. Love was not some complicated elusive thing. It was dedication to each other and willingness to make each other happy.

"Yes, Michael. Yes, I will marry you." Sarah giggled in spite of herself as she gazed at her fiance. She relished in the turn her life had taken. Mere weeks ago she had thought herself destined to be alone. Now, here she was. In love, and on the verge of a whole new life.


	5. Chapter 5

Minutes later, Michael excused himself stating he had letters to write if they were going to return to court in time for the winter festivities. Sarah walked out after him with a dreamy look on her face. The expression vanished when she saw who was waiting on the other side. In fact, her face mirrored the stormy expression that her companion wore.

"I heard the whole thing." Delia said.

"Well, then you heard him confess his love for me and ask for my hand in marriage." Sarah was smug. Delia must feel foolish now that she had heard Michael's heartfelt proposal. She was shocked when Delia laughed.

"I heard a man give a proposal that could have been used on any generic girl. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he had copied it from a book and inserted your name."

Sarah glowered at her _friend's_ words, mostly because that annoying small part of her agreed with this statement. But once again, stubbornness forced her to disregard this part. "We're not going to discuss this again. He loves me. Otherwise he would not have asked to marry me. End of discussion Delia."

Delia threw up her arms. "Fine he loves you. I get it. End of discussion. But I have another question for you: do you really love him?"

"Of course I do!" Sarah couldn't believe Delia would ask such a thing.

"Why?" Sarah was silent for a moment. Instead of exuding in the victory she had just won by rendering Sarah speechless, Delia walked away quietly. This proved to be even more annoying to Sarah. If she had laughed and said "I told you so" Sarah would have been able to accuse of her being childish and jealous, but she hadn't. Delia's obvious concern for her friend worried Sarah, but couldn't she see that things were finally working out right?

It wasn't until that night while in bed that Sarah realized she still had not answered Delia's question, even in her head. But why wouldn't she love Michael? He was kind and sweet. He opened new doors to her and introduced her to a way of living she hadn't even thought possible. Wasn't that enough?

Even asleep, Sarah could not escape Delia's question. In her dreams, Sarah and Michael came to his castle. Inside were sisters Sarah did not even know Michael had. They were shy little things and left the room as quickly as possible, apparently afraid of Sarah. As Michael led Sarah through the hall, the servants all passed by quickly and in complete silence. Something in their eyes didn't seem right, but Michael laughed and took Sarah's hand, eager to show her the view of the mountains from his chambers. Even in her dream, Sarah blushed as the insinuations entering his private rooms entailed.

Luckily, Sarah woke up before this part of the dream became a reality. While settling herself more comfortably under the covers, Sarah realized what was wrong with the servants' eyes. They contained fear, not the regular kind one feels around those above them, but fear of something more. Sarah thought of Michael's laughing eyes and easy smile. They couldn't possibly be afraid of Michael; he was too good. Sarah yet again dismissed the rational part that screamed the dream could mean something and went back to sleep. This time her dreams involved her dancing with a crowned Michael, as they should for a newly affianced woman.

Sarah and Delia had inhabited the castle for ten long years. Over that time, many books had been collected, many inanimate objects had been thrown, many pranks on Tracy had been pulled. Much had happened, developed over those ten years. Though it took ten years to build such a history in the castle, it only took three days to pack everything up and leave the castle behind.

Sarah looked back at the castle as her horse carried her away. For so many years she had resented that castle. It had been a prison to her. True, no one had ever expressly forbidden her from leaving the castle and entering the village. If anything, the king and queen's original intention for sending her to the castle was as a refuge, a safeguard. It was meant to keep society safe from her, true, but it also had kept her safe from society. Nevertheless, the castle had always reminded her of a prison. Though she wasn't trapped within its confines, it served as a daily reminder that she was trapped by her curse. Still, the castle had hosted many good memories. It was where she had hatched some of her best ideas encouraged by Delia. It was where she had fallen in love.

Indeed the castle looked very lonely, almost forlorn as its only occupants rode away. Sarah, who had once been so eager to leave the castle and never return, made a silent vow that she would come back to her refuge someday.

Michael rode up beside Sarah and interrupted her musings. "Why do you look so forlorn? I thought you would be happy to leave that musty old castle. I assure you the lodgings at court are _much_ more suitable to people of our station."

Sarah tried not to be annoyed by his flippant comment. He couldn't know how special the castle was to her; she hadn't even realized it until a few moments ago. Instead she attempted to listen as he energetically described the wonders that would be present at court during the winter festivities. When she glanced back again, the castle was nowhere in sight.

Just then Sarah's horse Maggie reared, bringing Sarah back to reality. Luckily Michael was nearby and grabbed Maggie's reigns before she threw Sarah off.

"Sarah, you really do have to pay attention." Frustration was evident in Michael's eyes.

"I'm sorry Michael." Sarah blushed. He was right of course. "I just can't seem to focus anymore. Everything is happening so fast and soon it will all be done."

Michael cocked his head confused. Sarah sighed. After all those years of stress, Sarah was finally close to undoing the damage she had caused by breaking into the witch's garden. And if that wasn't enough, Sarah had also fallen in love with a man, but in the process she had lost her home and best friend. She tried to think of a way to convey her feelings to Michael. Although she loved him dearly, he never could pick up on her jumbled trains of thought like Delia could. She supposed that was something that came with time. Speaking of Delia…

"Do you know where Delia is?" Sarah looked around; she was nowhere in sight.

Michael shrugged. He didn't seem too concerned. In fact, he seemed a bit relieved by Delia's absence. Considering that Delia had made life as difficult as possible for him lately, Sarah wasn't too surprised by this. "She probably rode ahead, you are rather slow."

Sarah chose to ignore this jab at her riding skills.

Sure enough, a short time later they found Delia sprawled out on a blanket. She sat up when she saw them coming.

"There you two are. It took you long enough!"

Michael rolled his eyes. He still hadn't adjusted to Delia's outspokenness. "We got held up."

Delia nodded and smirked at Sarah. "Maggie tried to throw you off again, didn't she? I tried to tell you that Winnie was a better choice."

Sarah opened her mouth to explain that Winnie was just as bad but taller. Meaning when Sarah inevitable fell off she had farther to fall. However, Delia changed the subject before Sarah could get this out.

"Anyways, I thought we could stop for an early lunch before we head into the forest." She smiled and gestured to the sandwiches she had set out on the blanket.

Michael frowned and shook his head. "We've hardly covered any ground. Let's go a bit farther and we can break in the forest."

Sarah winced as the words left his mouth. It was a beautiful sunny day and Delia loved the sun. In fact, it was probably the only reason she was in such a good mood at the moment. Removing her from the sun any sooner than necessary was a horrible idea. Sure enough, Delia's smile had faded.

"But then we won't be able to enjoy the sun." She deadpanned.

"Honestly," Michael said. "It's a bit too hot in the sun anyways. The shade sounds rather appealing at the moment." He seemed blissfully unaware that Delia grew to dislike him more with every word that left his mouth.

"Actually I think it's rather nice out." Delia's tone was in stark contrast to the warmth of the sun. "Don't you agree, Sarah?"

They both turned to look at her. Sarah hesitated. She knew her answer would determine more than merely where they had lunch. It would determine who had won the power struggle that they were fighting for her favor. A struggle she did not want either of them to win; she did not want either of them to think that they had power over her! However, she couldn't not answer either. She turned from Delia's cold glare to Michael's pleading eyes. Boys should not be allowed to have lashes that long…

"Well, it is a bit warm out here."

Delia looked a bit shocked, as if Sarah had slapped her. To her credit, she collected herself quickly.

"Well, fine. If you're too warm out here, maybe the forest is a better option."

Sarah let out a sigh of relief. She had been certain Delia was going to put up more of a fight. Then she noticed that instead of packing up lunch, Delia had sat back down and taken a bite out of her sandwich.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm having lunch." Delia took another bite.

Michael snorted impatiently. "Lady Delia, didn't Princess Sarah and I just establish that it was too warm to eat out here and we would take lunch in the forest later?"

Delia took her time chewing and swallowing. "Yes, you did actually. But just because you two don't want to stop here doesn't mean I can't enjoy my lunch in the sun."

Now Michael looked angry. Sarah shook her head at him. "No, just let her be," she muttered. Michael looked at Sarah incredulously as she guided Maggie towards the woods.

"This is crazy. She'll never catch up with us." Michael continued grumbling his discontent as he followed Sarah.

"Don't concern yourself for my sake, Michael," Delia called after them sweetly. "You won't get too far. Maggie gets temperamental when denied an early lunch!"

Sarah winced again. Though Sarah may have sided with Michael on where to eat, Delia had definitely won a battle in the unspoken war she was waging against Michael. Judging by the stormy expression on Michael's face, Sarah suspected he was thinking the same thing. This was not a good start to the trip.

For the next twenty minutes Sarah and Michael rode in silence. Now at first glance this would not seem unusual. On a two-week trek, traveling companions were bound to go through periods of silence. It was natural. However, the silence between this young couple was anything but normal. By nature, Michael was not a quiet person. He was full of life and energy. In fact, Sarah had never seen Michael so silent – even, to her dismay, in the library – as he had been in the past twenty minutes. And even if it was normal for Michael to be quiet for such a long period, the silence between the two was charged with an undeniable tension. That was unnatural, especially for a newly betrothed couple.

Sarah decided to attempt conversation. "You know I'm rather glad we didn't decide to stop back there. It really was much too warm…" Sarah stopped speaking when she saw Michael's glare. Apparently she had said the wrong thing.

"Well I'm glad you defend me now when no one is around to hear it." Venom was evident in Michael's voice.

"What are you talking about?" Sarah retorted, shocked by his tone. He had never spoken to her like this before; no one had even spoken to her like that before.

"Oh think for a second, Sarah. If you can't even support my decisions properly in front of your _maid_, how can I trust you support me when an entire country is judging my actions?"

This outburst offended Sarah. She had thought Michael was above such thoughts. She fought to keep her voice even when she answered him. "First of all, you must remember _Lady_ Delia holds just as high a rank as you do. You will treat her with proper respect. Second, I did support your decision. I am sorry I did not immediately follow you. That is not who I am. If you cannot accept that, then we have a bigger problem than me not supporting where you wish to dine."

Sarah pulled on Maggie's reigns, spurring her into a trot. She prayed to the gods Maggie would cooperate. To falter on her horse now would somewhat work against her declaration of independence. Luckily Maggie humored her.

Sarah could hear Michael swearing under his breath as he pulled his own horse up next to her. She refused to look his way.

"I'm sorry," Michael said after a few moments of silence. "You're right. I shouldn't be trying to change you and I shouldn't show disrespect to Lady Delia, not matter how much she annoys me."

He seemed to struggle a bit with this last part. "You just have to realize this is a change for me too. Getting your approval was hard enough. Now I have to try and win over an entire country. I just need to know that someone is on my side."

Sarah softened a little when she heard this. It hadn't even occurred to her that this must be a hard transition for Michael too. In fact, she felt a bit guilty for not considering his feelings before. What kind of fiancé didn't think of these things? "I am on your side, Michael. I'm sorry if I don't show that often enough."

Michael smiled. "It's alright."

A few miles later they broke for lunch. This time the silence was a much more relaxed one. The kind that should exist between a content couple. However, Sarah couldn't help but still worry about Michael's outburst. A small part of her – the same annoying part that had plagued her subconscious in her dreams – told her that their problems were far from resolved.

The next few days passed in a relatively harmless manner. Sarah had a few words with Delia about being nice and, though Delia didn't really follow Sarah's orders, she did learn to keep quiet. The fingernail marks on her palms were evidence as to how hard this was for Delia. Michael more than rose to the task of filling Delia's silence. Uninterrupted he chattered on for hours about anything that came to mind. Sarah was relieved that things had returned to normal.

A few days outside the capital the road they traveled became more crowded. Vendors called out to them boasting of their fresh fruits and superior trinkets. One particular vendor caught Sarah's eye. He stood alone by the roadside holding a box full of objects Sarah couldn't identify from a distance. He appeared to be a young boy of no more than ten years. However, his eyes told a different, much longer story. Eyes that were now looking back at her. Sarah blushed at being caught staring, but the youth smiled and winked at her with one of his peculiar eyes.

His smile disappeared when an older, larger vendor shoved in front of him, knocking the box out of the boy's hands. His wooden works were scattered in the mud where they were in danger of being crushed by passing horses' hooves. The boy sighed in resignation, leading Sarah to believe this was a common occurrence for him. Sarah's heart went out to the strange young vendor. Without another thought Sarah stopped Maggie and slid off her saddle.

"Sarah, what are you doing?" Michael smiled at her, but there was a quizzical look on his face. Delia also seemed surprised.

"That boy just had weeks' worth of work knocked into the mud. I want to help him salvage what he can." Sarah explained gesturing towards the youth.

"Sarah," Michael began. His voice had taken on a patronizing tone, which annoyed Sarah to no end. "We're a bit short on time as it is if we want to reach the outer village by nightfall."

But Sarah would not listen to this. Was he really that insensitive? "We can spare a few minutes." She called this over her shoulder as she headed to where the box's contents was scattered. She was surprised to discover the trinkets were actually extremely intricate pipes. They were far beyond the skill of anything she had ever seen, much less that of a ten year-old boy. She gathered what she could and brought them over to the box where the boy had piled what he had been able to save.

"Thank you very much, Miss." His voice was beautiful. "No one's ever stopped before." He seemed surprised that she was helping him, a fact that angered Sarah. Were people really so uncharitable?

"Well it's not a problem at all. I can't believe the nerve of that man, knocking you over like that. Someone ought to teach him a lesson on courtesy-"

"Don't trouble yourself, Miss." The boy interrupted, he was clearly not anxious for a fight. "It's fine really. It doesn't take me too long to replace the ones that are ruined anyways."

Sarah was surprised at this statement. Surely he didn't mean that he had produced all these pipes by himself? The vendor seemed to read Sarah's thoughts and laughed.

"Yes, I do make the pipes by myself. You would be surprised how good you can get at something if you spend enough time doing it." His eyes seemed to pierce right through her.

"Then again, maybe you of all people wouldn't be so surprised at what one can accomplish when they fix their mind upon it." The young vendor was becoming stranger by the minute. The boy looked behind Sarah.

"You better get going. Your friends are getting impatient with you, especially that man." Sarah felt something cool and smooth pressed into her hand. When she looked at what the boy had placed there, she saw a flawless scarlet stone. Sarah was shocked the unintentional appropriateness of this gift. Surely he couldn't know how much rocks fascinated her.

"Thank you for your kindness." The boy said; his voice had turned serious. "If you could do me another favor and hold onto this stone for me, I'd be forever grateful."

The boy turned back to his box, but paused and called out to her once more. "I'm fairly well-known in these parts. If you ever need help from someone, tell them you know Peter. It might help you someday."

Then he was gone. Sarah walked back towards Maggie, pondering the strange event. Michael was none too pleased at the delay, but Sarah murmured an apology, which seemed to appease him. It wasn't until that night that Sarah realized the strangest part of the occurrence.

Peter had touched her hand.

Sorry this took so long. I just finished catching up from Spring Break in Europe, which was phenominal. I got to have breakfast in the same cafe where JK Rowling wrote most of the first Harry Potter book. Call me crazy, call me a dork, but it was amazing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello awesome readers! Sorry I'm taking so long to post. The semester's wrapping up and I have 7 papers to write in less than two weeks. That and I'm trying to attain a work visa so I can spend the summer in the UK!! Anyway, here's the new chapter. Happy reading!**

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After one more day of traveling, the trio, led by an eager Michael, had finally arrived at their destination: the royal city, Meridon. Though Sarah had once lived here, her childhood memories did not do it justice. The city was a sight to behold. The buildings were a shade of white that was unnatural for so large a city. Marble seemed to almost sparkle in the sun. However expert that she was, Sarah knew that it was physically impossible for marble to sparkle. Built on a hill, Meridon had the natural height advantage, which inspired awe as well as a small amount of fear in the spectator. Even from a distance it was obvious that the royal castle was much grander than the castle that had housed her for the last ten years.

The awesomeness of Meridon, combined with anxiety over her impending reunion with her family and court life in general, made Sarah very nervous and very much wishing she could disappear into the crowd. Or better yet, high-tail it back to her secluded castle. Delia noticed Sarah's fear.

"You know they should really be afraid of you, not the other way around."

Sarah looked at her with a skeptical gaze. How could the court have anything to fear from her, their country-bred princess, who had next to no experience with life at court?

"I mean, if Count Hoity-Toity says one wrong word all it will take is a tap from you and 'POOF!' He's a cow."

Sarah smiled despite herself. Although she would never think to use her curse that way, the court did not know that. At least now Sarah was somewhat sure they would save their laughter over Sarah's inevitable fau pas for their private chambers instead of indulging in public mockery.

"Plus," Delia continued, encouraged by Sarah's smile "you won't have to worry about a line of foolish young knights eager to impress you with their non-existent dancing skills. I swear some men think stepping on women's toes is an accepted part of all dances."

Sarah laughed at this. "Well they have to be better partners than the broom you had me dancing with before."

Delia feigned shock. "Monsieur Balai? Never! I hate to disappoint you, Sarah, but you'll soon by wishing you had your trusty Monsieur at your side." She lowered her voice considerably. "From what I hear, the maids have never heard of them."

"Are you suggesting that a princess sweep her own quarters?"

"If the princess doesn't want to get attacked by dust bunnies in the night, then yes."

Sarah laughed again. "I'm glad to have you by my side, Delia. I think my nerves would overtake me without you here."

Delia's face turned somewhat serious. "You know, Sarah, I may not always agree with you. In fact, we disagree about a lot of things. But please remember, I'm always on your side. Don't ever think that you can't call on me. I will always come if you need me."

"But why?"

Delia laughed. "Because I'm your friend of course! It's what friends do."

Sarah nodded; Delia was right of course. In fact, Sarah felt a bit guilty about how she had treated Delia lately. She certainly hadn't been treating her like a friend. She would have to change that once they got to court, _which is now._

Sarah took a deep breath as they entered the castle's main courtyard.

**oooooooooo**

Out of all the things she had imagined court life entailing, being slowly suffocated by contraptions of _fashion_ had not made Sarah's list. Yet here she was mentally cursing the maid tugging on Sarah's corset laces. If Sarah weren't so uncomfortable, she would have almost pitied the maid. The poor girl looked close to tears. Sarah supposed no one would be too keen to cause discomfort to a princess who could change her into a cow with a simple tap of her finger. It might be a somewhat stressful situation. Sarah gasped after another particularly sharp tug; all of her pity for the maid vanished.

**oooooooooo**

Sarah's initial reception at court had gone surprisingly well. Sarah was somewhat nervous upon entering the Great Hall. Surprisingly the tension in Michael's shoulders told her that she was not the only one feeling that way. Delia seemed to be the only one free of nerves, or if she was nervous she had a strange way of coping with it. Imitating the stiff walk of the guards surrounding them with an overdone serious air was not the most normal way of combating nerves. Embarrassment for her friend filled Sarah. Why would she even_ think_ that this was appropriate behavior for court? Sarah became so focused on being embarrassed for Delia's sake that she forgot to be nervous. Delia later claimed this had been her intention all along, though Sarah had her doubts.

The royal guards leading them through the palace stopped outside a pair of ornately carved doors, depicting the image of a badger, the state animal, brandishing a sword. They opened the doors to reveal the magnificent throne room. Though Sarah had spent her childhood at the palace, she had never been allowed into the throne room. The genteel children of Meridon were kept at a distance from politics until they were of age. It was thought that childhood was better spent learning the fundamentals, not rushing into the adult world of politics.

On the thrones Sarah saw two people clad in red velvet. She recognized them as her parents. They fit her hazy memories decently, although instead of dark brown hair, there was a decent amount of silver mixed in. Upon closer inspection, Sarah saw that they were smiling at her. However, she couldn't help but note their smiles did not quite reach their eyes.

"Welcome home," her father said. His voice was deeper than she remembered, but very fitting for a man with such authority. Her mother repeated the sentiments in a wispy voice that somewhat grated on Sarah's nerves. A quick shared glance with Delia assured her that she was not alone in this.

Sarah went on to introduce Michael, who her father received in the same manner as Sarah. Michael presented himself extremely well for one who was so nervous about the court's acceptance. Sarah swelled with pride for her betrothed when he got her mother to laugh.

After a few more minutes of pleasantries, her father announced a feast would be held that night in honor of her engagement and subsequent homecoming.

**oooooooooo**

Sarah winced as the air was forced out of her chest once again. How on earth was she supposed to eat a single thing with her waist sucked in so much? She could barely find room for something as insubstantial as air inside of her let alone an entire feast. When she had voiced these sentiments to her maid, Jeannie, she had laughed. Upon realizing whom she was laughing at, she had quickly covered it with a cough. Sarah wished she hadn't. When she had gotten into disagreements with Delia in the past, she had always said she could not wait for the day when she was around people who showed her proper respect. Delia had always laughed and told her how she would eat her words one day. Now Sarah was doing just that, and they left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Sarah gasped at Jeannie's next – and thankfully, final – tug. There was officially no room for anything more than a few breaths left in her chest. Hopefully the courses would be light tonight.

**oooooooooo**

Sarah took a deep breath as she paced the sitting room waiting for Michael to arrive and escort her down to the feast. Which was somewhat silly since he could not escort her properly without holding her arm, but Sarah let this go.

On cue, Sarah heard a knock on her door and opened it to reveal Michael. If she were a person with less self-control her jaw would have dropped. She had always considered Michael to be handsome, but clean-shaven and dressed according to his station… well he was a sight to behold.

She noticed a strange look pass over his face as he took in her appearance. Sarah crossed her arms over her less-than-modest dress. She had told Jeannie the scarlet dress with its plunging neckline was too much, but the stubborn maid had insisted this was the outfit ordered for her.

"Sarah, you look beautiful."

Even Sarah could not deny the sincerity in his voice. Relief flooded Sarah upon hearing his words. Maybe Jeannie had been right about the dress. Now if only she could divert Michael's stare to a point above her neck…

Sarah cleared her throat and his gaze snapped back up to her face. He grinned sheepishly like a little boy caught sneaking a treat from the kitchens.

"Shall we?" He asked.

Michael seemed to have calmed down since their initial meeting with the king and queen earlier that day. He chatted with animation the whole way down to the hall. While listening to him, Sarah's own nerves slipped away. She even forgot the discomfort cause by the corset digging into her ribs. Well, almost.

At dinner, she found her seat near the head of the table. Sarah could not believe the amount of food placed before her throughout the course of the night. Although the king and queen had provided food for Delia and herself during their years in the castle, it had been up to the two girls to prepare the food. Therefore Sarah was accustomed to the simple recipes Delia and she prepared for themselves. But now a plethora of food lay before her. Roast hart, sweet rice, carameled squash, the choices never seemed to end. Mindful of her restrictive dress, Sarah stuck to small portions of the foods set before her.

Throughout the course of dinner Sarah could not help but notice the stare of the guest across from her. A young man with striking dark eyes. His intense gaze, filled with curiosity, shifted away whenever she caught him looking. Sarah was not the only one who noticed the young man's glances.

"Is he bothering you? I can say something if you want." Michael glared at the man across the table and shifted his chair a bit closer to Sarah's. She could smell the wine on his breath.

Sarah quickly shook her head no. It would not do to pick a fight with this man. He had to be someone important to be sitting so far up the table. The last thing Sarah wanted was to offend a potential ally, although she did wish she knew why he stared. Unlike Michael's gaze earlier, the young man seemed to be focused on her face. Sarah received her answer a few minutes later when the king cleared his throat.

"Lord Michael, daughter, may I introduce Sir Tristan of Mells. He is an expert in mythology and will be training you on the ways of the gods."

Sir Tristan bowed his head towards them.

"My lord, you highness. It is a pleasure to meet you." Sarah found his quiet, low voice to be somewhat soothing, though it contrasted his intense eyes.

"Lord Michael, I have arranged for you to meet Sir Tristan in his study tomorrow. Mark his words. I would prefer my daughter to be married by the year's end."

The king glanced sternly at Michael as if to drive home his point. Michael looked a bit peaky. He really should not have had so much wine, Sarah mused. Then another thought occurred to her.

"Father, am I to attend the lessons as well?"

The king seemed surprised that Sarah was addressing him.

"Well, what need is there for that?" He chuckled as if she were joking. A few of the more brazen members of the court joined him in laughter. However, Sarah had not studied for so many years to be blown off easily.

"Please, sir, I have done plenty of research and may be of some use."

The king paused. He did not seem to know what to make of her statement.

"Very well. You may join Lord Michael at the lessons, if Sir Tristan does not object?" He turned to look at Sir Tristan, who shook his head.

"That will not be a problem."

Satisfied the king continued his meal and everyone else followed suit. Sarah could not help but notice Sir Tristan's glances continued. The curiosity in his eyes was now even more evident.

**oooooooooo**

After the feast, the court was dismissed to spend the rest of the night as they pleased. Mindful of Sarah's condition, the king and queen had decided against throwing a ball. This was quite a relief to Sarah, who had been dreading the awkwardness being a spectator at her own ball. Not that she wished to dance even if she could. As appealing as the idea of Michael, dressed in all his finery, eagerly leading her through a waltz sounded, Sarah's limited experience with Monsieur Balai did not inspire confidence in her dancing skills.

Instead, Michael escorted her back to her room. He had definitely had too much to drink and it was showing in his speech. Sarah would have to have a word with the servants who had taken it upon themselves to readily refill Michael's goblet at dinner. This would not do.

"Sarah," he whispered, narrowly missing her ear. Sarah shifted a bit further away from him and kept walking. Though she dearly loved sober Michael, his drunken alter ego was far from lovable.

"Sarah!" he whispered again, undeterred by her lack of response and apparent revulsion.

Sarah sighed. He obviously was not going to be ignored. "Yes, Michael?"

"You're so beautiful… I would give anything to hold you now. In fact…" A devious gleam shone in Michael's eyes as he caged her between his arms. "I think I'll do just that."

Sarah's heart quickened. _No, this was not how it was supposed to be!_ "Michael, the curse!"

"To hell with the curse! We love each other. The goddess should see that and just give up." He leaned in closer and closer. Sarah's heartbeat quickened as she feared for her fiancé.

"Michael, you have to listen to me! I do not think that's how the curse works."

Michael laughed as he surveyed her through his drunken haze. She could smell the wine on his breath.

"Sarah, Sarah. You have to stop trying to take care of me, let _me_ take care of you."

Although he had said something similar before, this time there was a whole different inflection in his voice. A seductive one. Had she not been alarmed for her fiancé's continued status as a human being, she might have felt a tinge of fear as to what his intentions were. Instead, Sarah's mind desperately raced through ideas to get out of this situation. Sarah drew a blank. None of her romance novels had prepared her for this particular scenario. Sarah frantically pondered what to do as Michael edged closer.

It did not matter how loud and heavy the footsteps she heard next were, they had to be the footsteps of an angel.

Michael also paused as he heard the footfalls, which stopped as the man rounded the corner.

"Sir Tristan," Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. She was in luck tonight.

"Oh, good evening your highness, my lord." Tristan's calculating eyes quickly assessed the situation before him. Then, he met Sarah's pleading eyes, which seemed to confirm his suspicions.

Michael immediately straightened up though he was still slightly swaying. "Sir Tristan." He returned the greeting.

"I am actually glad I have come across you, Lord Michael. I wanted to specify on our meeting tomorrow since the king never gave a set time. I was thinking the two of you could stop by around three in the afternoon?"

"Yes, yes. That will be fine." Michael's tone was clipped. He obviously wished for Sir Tristan to be gone, Sarah had a fear as to why.

Sir Tristan ignored Michael's tone. "In fact, Lord Michael I was wondering if I could have a few words with you pertaining to tomorrow?"

Sarah could not help but be amused by the annoyance that Michael was unable to hide.

"Unfortunately, Sir Tristan, I believe that will be impossible. Her highness is exhausted and I was just escorting her to her chambers."

"Well, perhaps I shall accompany you and we can talk afterwards?" Sarah had to admire the determination of the young man. Michael did not seem to appreciate this quality quite as much.

"I'm sorry but the excitement of the day seems to have caught up with me. I'm exhausted as well."

Sir Tristan frowned. "Too tired for a few minutes?"

Michael nodded with a sloppy grin, happy to have won. "Much."

"Well then perhaps I should escort the lady to her room? I had a few things to discuss with her as well. Besides her quarters are out of your way. I believe everyone would prefer if you get more sleep so that tomorrow does not prove too exciting for you as well."

The triumphant gleam disappeared from Michael's face as he glared at Sir Tristan, whose expression was entirely too innocent to match his words. Sarah did not know whether to laugh or be offended by the audacity Sir Tristan had just directed at her fiancé. Regardless of how he did it, Sir Tristan had talked Michael into a hole.

"Very well." Michael snapped. "I'll be on my way. Good night Sarah, Sir Tristan." He walked down the hall, trying in vain to walk in a straight line.

Sir Tristan shook his head and turned to Sarah. "Are you alright, my lady?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." Sarah started to walk in the direction of her quarters. She was surprised when he remained by her side. She looked at him inquisitively.

"I did promise your fiancé I would walk you back." Sir Tristan smiled, but his face changed as he continued. "I would not want anyone to attempt to hurt you, princess."

Sarah caught his hidden meaning and blushed. "He is not usually like that, you know. Lord Michael just had a bit more alcohol than usual. I believe his nerves over reentering court life got the better of him."

Sir Tristan nodded. "Well, I hope that was the case for all our sakes. Despite what he may think, had Lord Michael touched you he would have experienced the full effect of the curse."

Sarah grew even redder. "Yes, I know that. He knows that as well. He was just a bit drunk. Not that Lord Michael's condition is really any of your concern."

"Oh but it is. However, I'm certain you know best." Tristan stopped walking. They had reached Sarah's quarters. "I bid you good night, my lady. I hope when we meet again the circumstances will be a bit more favorable."

"Good night." Sarah nodded curtly and closed her door. She sighed. Must she forever be surrounded by difficult men? First, Michael entered her life with all his boyish charm. Now, Sir Tristan seemed to be turning into a difficult one as well, though in his own quiet understated way. Really, why did men have to be so vexing?

**oooooooooo**

**Alright, well that's it for now! I hope you enjoyed it. **

**P.S. Balai means 'broom' in French.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

Sarah did not need to be woken by Jeannie the next morning. Her own high-strung nerves and volatile digestive system rendered this task of Jeannie's unnecessary. The mixture of dread and anticipation running through Sarah's system was so intertwined she had trouble distinguishing which of these feelings was the main reason for her early morning.

However, she could pinpoint exactly what inspired both of these sentiments: the upcoming meeting with Sir Tristan. Sarah was excited to discuss her research and learn more from him that might help her break her curse. However, after last night she somewhat dreaded facing Sir Tristan. She was certain he had formed a strong opinion of her fiancé and herself after last night's fiasco; she certainly would have. Sarah knew Sir Tristan would not say anything directly to her about the previous night. In a way Sarah wished her would, words she could refute. No, what Sarah dreaded more than anything was the knowing judgmental look Sir Tristan was sure to direct towards Michael and her.

Sarah was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she hardly complained or argued about the disadvantages of the bondage of women as Jeannie pulled the strings of yet another corset. She forgot to roll her eyes and exchange knowing looks with Delia at the insipid statements of the court's ladies during morning tea. Michael had to enter Sarah's room without permission, as she was so lost that she missed several minutes of him knocking.

"Are you angry with me?" Michael asked as the two walked the corridors leading with Sir Tristan's parlor.

"Hmm?" Sarah asked. In truth, Michael's behavior the previous night was not the main thing on her mind. She was still contemplating the impending meeting with Sir Tristan and his reaction to the couple.

"Sarah," Michael stopped in front of Sarah, coming alarmingly close to colliding with the absent-minded princess. "I hope you know I am truly sorry about last night. I had far too much to drink. My behavior was inappropriate."

Sarah sighed as she contemplated her response. She knew that Michael was sorry for his actions the night before and that the alcohol he consumed was the main problem, not him. However, the same nagging voice that had plagued her back at the old castle reemerged and cast doubt on this explanation. Sarah once again pushed this voice to the back of her mind.

"Just promise me you will not drink again."

Michael smiled. It was not just any smile. He whole face seemed to light up. "I knew you would forgive me."

Sarah laughed. "Oh did you?"

"Of course." Michael's stance and walk had returned to a confident gait. "It is one of the things I love about you. You are so understanding. You are not one to hold a grudge like other girls might."

Sarah frowned. She did not know whether to take this as a compliment or as an insult. Although she was happy Michael thought highly of her, the girl he described hardly fit Sarah. In fact, Sarah had always been rather stubborn and set in her ways; any deviation from her plans was not easily forgotten.

Michael noticed Sarah's moment of distress. "What's wrong?"

Sarah shook her head and donned a smile. "Nothing. Everything is just fine. Shall we continue to our lesson?"

Michael nodded and waited for her to lead the way. They did not speak the rest of the walk to Sir Tristan's rooms, but language was not necessary. Or at least that was what Sarah tried to tell herself so that the silence did not seem awkward. Sarah pushed aside the silence as periods of silence between the two of them had become more common. Sometimes, though, Sarah wondered. How could a man with so many words and a woman with so many stored-up facts and opinions experience so many stretches of silence?

Sarah almost breathed a sigh of relief when they reached Sir Tristan's rooms. Their new teacher opened the door immediately at their knock.

Sir Tristan managed a small smile when he saw the two of them. "Right on time. I must say I'm impressed." He motioned for them to enter. Sarah was surprised to see that his chambers were rather cosy and included a cluster of cushy armchairs. She had pictured something much more formal from the reserved man.

"Impressed, why?" Michael inquired. Sarah noticed Michael's tone was not as friendly as usual; instead he spoke with a cautious edge. Apparently he had not forgotten Sir Tristan's intervention the night before.

"Most nobles do not understand what it means to be punctual." Sir Tristan sat in one of the armchairs and motioned for them to do the same. "It's refreshing to come across those who respect a scholar's time."

"I would caution you against being so harsh on our court." Michael started. Sarah winced as Michael continued. "They have many important issues that take up their time. I'm certain punctuality for a lunch meeting is the last thing on their minds compared to their other concerns."

Sir Tristan nodded seriously. "Yes, I'm certain preparation for tournaments and planning banquets is a very time consuming business for the hundreds at court." Sarah could not help but grin. "However, considering the importance history and custom have played in our kingdom, I think it would be wise for more nobles to respect the scholar's time. As you have done."

Michael seemed unsure whether or not to argue and choose silence.

"So I believe you were to instruct us on the gods, Sir Tristan?" Sarah was eager to hear what he had to say. She was interested to hear a scholar's thoughts on the gods.

Sir Tristan seemed pleased by Sarah's enthusiasm. "Yes of course. Now, as you both know your highness angered a rather powerful and vengeful divinity when you fell under the Heratic curse. Hera is not a goddess to be toyed with; she has a temper that rivals that of Zeus, and she does not forgive."

Sarah nodded impatiently. She knew all this and she would have liked to think that Sir Tristan was merely repeating this information for Michael, but she noticed that Sir Tristan's gaze kept on meeting hers.

"We know the basics, Sir Tristan." Sarah spoke up before Sir Tristan continued to explain things she had known since age ten and Michael had been more than filled in on. "Hera is known as an unforgiving goddess. Our best chance at getting her to lift the curse is to present the Apple of Discord to her. What we need to know is the best way to get the apple away from Aphrodite."

Sir Tristan seemed impressed by Sarah's knowledge. Michael did as well.

"Yes, you are quite right, your highness." Sir Tristan continued. "As you both know I'm sure, Aphrodite is the goddess of love and lust. In order to get the stone away from her she must be outsmarted in some way."

Sarah smiled. It looked like the three of them may actually make some progress.

As it turned out, the progress was further off than Sarah had initially hoped. Although Michael's heart was in the right place, he had little background in mythology or the gods and had to have many things explained to him. Sir Tristan was not quite as patient with his pupil as he could have been. (Sarah suspected Sir Tristan had not quite forgiven him for their encounter after the welcome banquet.) As a result, a tension had formed between the two. Sarah spent so much time mediating between the two men that she was unable to think clearly on the matter at hand. This seemed to a problem for her companions as well and little progress was made over the next two weeks.

The tension reached its peak on a particularly sunny Tuesday. Michael had grumbled the entire way to Sir Tristan's chambers about what a shame it was to be trapped in 'those damned stuffy chambers' on such a perfect day. Unfortunately Sir Tristan had opened his doors in anticipation of their arrival and heard the last bit of Michael's rant, which included a description of Sir Tristan as a 'shell of a human being devoid of actual emotions.'

They spent the next half hour arguing over ancient texts. Sir Tristan and Sarah were debating the possibility of using Michael to seduce and trick Aphrodite into handing over the stone.

"I just do not understand it!" Michael slammed his book shut. "How can you think a virgin goddess is going to be seduced by a mortal man?"

There was a moment of shocked silence.

"You think Aphrodite is a virgin?" Sir Tristan asked slowly, disbelief etched into his face.

Michael scoffed. "Well, yes of course. After all, she never married."

Sarah thought the pulsing vein at Sir Tristan's temple was going to explode.

"How after weeks going over mythology can you still not know Aphrodite was married? Or that she had multiple affairs for that matter." Sir Tristan in a quiet, but intense voice.

"Well, you never exactly brought it up."

"Did you even _look_ at the texts I gave you?"

"I thought we would go over the most important things during our meetings. Besides I didn't have time, given that I was attempting to establish relations with the court when I'm not crammed in this room."

Sarah closed her eyes waiting for the explosion.

"You don't seem to get it." Sir Tristan's voice was raised almost to the point of yelling. "If you don't succeed in this task, all your courtly maneuvers will be pointless. These _meetings_ are of utmost importance. Your studies of the texts I assign you to read while _crammed_ in this room are going to determine the fate of this country so I would like to think you would take them seriously instead of pouting like a little boy who has to study his Latin conjugations before going out to play."

Michael jumped from his chair, knocking it over in the process. "You know, I really do not need this from you of all people. Not today. I'm leaving."

Michael started for the door. "Sarah, are you coming with me?"

Sarah stared back at him, but did not leave her seat.

Michael looked at her in disbelief. "You're not staying, are you?"

"Sir Tristan has a point, Michael. Studying this material is the most important thing right now. The court can wait." Looking at Michael's face, Sarah realized she should have saved her breath.

"I guess I should be surprised that you're choosing books over reality again." Michael stormed out of the room before Sarah could reply.

Sarah blinked back tears as she determinedly avoided eye contact with Sir Tristan. This was not how things were supposed to be going. Michael was supposed to be eager to learn. They were supposed to have a concrete plan and be finalizing the details by now. Michael was supposed to be reassuring Sarah while she worried about him succeeding with the goddesses. She was not supposed to be worrying about whether or not they would even come up with a plan while trying to keep peace with Michael.

"I am so sorry." Sarah whispered. "This was not the way things were meant to go. I never wanted to waste your time like this."

Sir Tristan sighed and spoke in a softer tone. "You have nothing to be sorry for, highness. You have exceeded my expectations."

Sarah laughed softly. "You mean your expectations for a woman."

"No," Sir Tristan took a more serious tone. "I meant in general. You have been a pleasant surprise in many ways."

Sarah was surprised to feel heat rising in her cheeks at these words.

Sir Tristan sighed. "Well, I do not think we will be getting much done today. We might as well end things early. Perhaps we can salvage what is left of the afternoon."

Sarah gathered her things and turned to leave.

"Have a good afternoon, your highness."

Sarah stopped at the door. "Sarah."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You may call me Sarah."

There was another pause.

"Only if you call me Tristan."

Well, what can I say? I'm sorry? I know I haven't updated this in forever. My summer excuse: lots of drama within my group of friends. And now school is killing me. I have a minimum of two papers due every week, which makes writing in my free time a bit less appealing.

I promise I'm not going to desert this story though! I actually do have an outline for the entire story. Not to mention that I have pages of scenes written for later parts of the story.


End file.
